


Opening the Box

by printfogey



Category: One Piece
Genre: Angst, Drama, Gen, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-13
Updated: 2012-03-13
Packaged: 2017-11-01 22:07:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/361798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/printfogey/pseuds/printfogey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Thriller Bark, Sanji's bothered by Usopp's immunity to negative ghosts, and he tries to get him to open up and talk about things. But is that really such a good idea...? Contains some angst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Notes: This fic took its sweet time writing, slowly growing out of my thoughts on canon in Water 7/Enies Lobby and on Thriller Bark, and on Sanji's and Usopp's interactions as a whole. 
> 
> Many thanks to my wonderful beta Tonko, though any remaining errors are my responsibility alone. Nitpicks and other kinds of feedback is very welcome! The second part will be posted shortly, maybe even as soon as tomorrow.
> 
> Spoilers/setting: Set after Thriller Bark and before Sabaody.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations of One Piece are owned by their creator Eiichiro Oda and by Shueisha, Inc. A few of them are used here without permission for entertainment purposes only. This fanfic may not be used for profit in any way.

What do you do when you run out of words, and the ones you’ve already used don’t seem to make any difference? When you know you simply have to keep trying, it’s way too important not to, and it’s your fault in the first place, anyway – yet whatever you say or do seems bound to be the wrong thing?

The cook struck a match and lit a cigarette, slouching at the end of the table and looking out the window of the galley with a dull expression. The kitchen was empty, everyone gone after supper had finished half an hour or so ago. It was getting dark outside. 

Thoughts whirled in his head and wouldn’t stop, going round and round in furious circles: stuff he’d heard and said; stuff he might have said instead and maybe should have; what he could do and say now to help make it better. But when he tried out possible words and phrases in his head, they just seemed to smack into a wall of solid black rock, one which wouldn’t crack no matter how hard he kicked it. Like they hadn't before, so far. 

He let out a groan, rubbing his forehead for a few minutes as if trying to form ideas out of mind-dough, not that it helped any. But he couldn’t just let this go, couldn’t go to bed and pretend nothing had happened. So he supposed he’d have to make himself get up from this chair and knock on the door on the workshop below deck and try one more time. Even if he’d end up only doing more harm.

Fuck.

 

***

Sanji didn’t figure himself for the prying type. Sure, he might say a few well-chosen words if he thought they were needed, and he might step in to break up a fight. He also thought he was a fairly good listener, if need be. 

But if someone didn’t feel like talking he wouldn’t insist, not about things that were serious (teasing was another matter, of course). He’d allow his friends their boundaries; he’d respect people’s pride and privacy. After all, it was no more than what he wanted them to do for him, when he was feeling embarrassed or downcast about stuff. It was just a matter of respect.

Usually. 

And if he happened to harbour a growing sense of unease about one of his crewmates right now, it wasn’t even as if he could explain why. Usopp hadn’t seemed more down than usual during these past few days since the battles of Thriller Bark. In fact, if anything he’d seemed more cheerful, confident and boastful than Sanji had seen him for what felt like ages. The week before Thriller Bark, after leaving Water 7, there had been a sense of hesitancy about him, a fragility still there despite his palpable relief and happiness to be back. Trying too hard, straining to be happy and goofy like always – or so it had seemed to Sanji then, at least.

In any case, now Sanji couldn’t sense that at all, not after their victory over that nightmarish place. Usopp seemed all back to his fun-loving self, only with a hefty new dose of toughness in him, and a solidity that hadn’t quite been there before. So it seemed pretty dumb of Sanji to be worried _now_ , instead of last week.

Was it just because he didn’t like to think about where part of this new confidence came from…? 

He could still clearly recall the hollow, hopeless feeling of terrible soul-crushing worthlessness that the negative ghosts had inflicted in him. Sanji still didn’t quite understand how they really worked, those creatures of Moria’s minion, the (admittedly cute) Miss Perona – how they did what they did to people’s psyches. Nor did he understand what it might mean to be immune to them – “already negative”, Usopp had claimed he was, but that couldn’t mean the sniper felt like that _all the time_ , could it? That seemed impossible. Usopp wasn’t like that.

Sure, he was quick to panic and maybe even to despair, in the less serious sense. That was obvious enough. But he was quick to laugh, too, and made friends easily even with people who had scared him shitless minutes earlier. And when it didn’t seem too dangerous, he would equal Luffy in cheer and enthusiasm about whatever their next goal might be. 

Still, the thought that Usopp was thoroughly familiar even with a toned-down version of what Sanji had felt when the ghosts attacked him – familiar enough to build up immunity to the real thing – was deeply unsettling. Sanji didn’t like it one lousy bit.

Even so, he’d probably have been content to say nothing and simply hope for the best… if it hadn’t been for that stupid shitty mosshead damn well throwing his life away to that shitty Shichibukai, and coming out more dead than alive from it. And Sanji couldn’t talk about Zoro’s sacrifice – Brook knew about it too, and that was a relief, but Brook was too new to discuss that sort of thing with. He hadn’t sailed with Zoro long enough for that. 

So maybe the words that Sanji wasn’t allowed to say eventually made him say other words, ones that might be unwise, but not forbidden. Not impossible.

He wasn’t afraid that Usopp would leave them again. That wasn’t it, not at all. Somehow he knew down to his very bones that wouldn’t happen. At least not until after Luffy had become Pirate King and Usopp went back to see that girl on his home island he kept talking about, and if so, well… then it would be different. Besides, he’d probably get leave from Luffy to do that, Sanji figured.

But even if he stayed right among them he could still move further away. Could build up a wall between himself and the others again. Maybe not wanting too, not consciously, but still allowing the stones to pile up. That wouldn’t be good at all. Also, Sanji couldn’t help but wonder if that might not affect the outcome of some future battle, one in which being negative would not be an advantage.

Besides, for purely selfish reasons he didn’t want that to happen. He wanted Usopp around being his ordinary goofy, lying self, making Sanji laugh or mildly pissing him off in a friendly way. It was just one of the things that needed to be there in order for Sanji to feel fine, like knowing there was food in the pantry or seeing Nami smile or just knowing all his crewmates were there and were their normal selves, even when those selves were annoying. Soppy of him, maybe, but that was how things had come to be these days and he had to admit it to himself, if not to anybody else.

 

***

It was late in the afternoon on an ordinary, rather windy day. There’d been a bit of a kerfuffle earlier when they ran into a trio of Seakings of the eelish sort. Their skin was even more slippery than the norm, in a disgusting mucuslike way, which made them harder to fight than usual. Both Sanji and Luffy had been initially puzzled. Sanji had just figured out the right way to attack them – or so he thought anyway – when Brook and Chopper had put their idea of a combination attack in motion. That turned out all right, and he felt proud of them, but… well, maybe it was stupid of him but he couldn’t help feeling somewhat disappointed.

Non-fish supplies were ebbing out too fast again, he noticed. Damn. And while supper had seemed to come along nicely at first, now the shitty stove was acting up on him, and he couldn’t figure out what the hell its problem was.

“Hey,” he grumbled over his shoulder to Usopp, just entering the galley, “did you do anything to this shitty thing?”

Usopp looked puzzled. “Huh? No-ooo. I didn’t!”

“Did you see Luffy or anyone else doing anything?” Sanji continued.

Usopp shrugged. “Nope. Get Franky to take a look if you’re worried.” He plopped himself down by the table heavily, looking fairly tired. 

Sanji glanced at him briefly, then turned back, glaring down at the store. “Huh,” he muttered. “It’s not supposed to act up like that. It’s brand new.”

“Well, Merry’s stove was brand new too at first and you still had trouble with it sometimes, didn’t you?” Usopp pointed out.

“MhmIguess,” mumbled Sanji, opening up the firewood door to try again to see if he could see anything that was amiss. Just like three minutes ago, everything _looked_ okay.

There was a pause for a while. Sanji left the stove alone for now and went over to the sink, letting the hot water run. Then he glanced back again. Usopp had opened his bag and was going through its contents, sorting things into small piles according to some system Sanji couldn’t guess at.

“Hey,” said Sanji in a softer tone. “You should do that more often. _We_ should.”

“Huh?” Usopp looked up. “Do what?”

Sanji started to scrub one of the larger kettles. “Talk about Merry more,” he explained.

“Hey, I do talk about her!” protested Usopp. “I don’t want her to be forgotten. It’s the rest of you that don’t seem to want to. ‘Cept for Franky and Robin. _They_ don’t mind.”

Sanji shrugged and kept scrubbing, hoping he looked casual enough to hide his sudden, small fear that he’d said something wrong. “Okay. My mistake.”

They were quiet for a while, a slightly less companionable silence than moments ago. 

_So,_ Sanji thought to himself. _Do I start talking seriously to him now, like I’ve been thinking I should? Or do I keep silent because maybe that’s the smart thing after all?_

His right foot started tapping the floor impatiently, all by itself. Even if keeping his trap shut might be wiser, it annoyed him to be chickening out that way.

“Hey,” Usopp said suddenly, perking up, “Brook was kinda fun today, wasn’t he? When Luffy hit that second eely Seaking, I mean. The red one. He’d never seen him use that attack before!” He chuckled heartily; Sanji made himself smile tightly in reply. “And did you see his face when I shot the fangs out of the green one’s mouth?” Usopp continued. “Haha! I don’t think they had snipers like that back in his old crew, do you?” He grinned widely and rather smugly. “Now, _that_ was an audience!” 

Sanji let out a soft, unforced chuckle, feeling his spirits rise. “Yeah, yeah,” he drawled. “Hey, cut the rest of us some slack, will you? Can’t expect us to be impressed by small shit like that, not after seeing that crap you did from the Tower of Justice.” He was washing the outside of the kettle with wide, easy strokes now, tension slowly easing from his back and shoulders. “Hitting Marines hundreds of meters away without even grazing Robin-honey in their midst… and in a hard wind too.” Finished with the kettle, he straightened up and lit a new cigarette, then looked behind him again. “That was crazy enough to sound like one of your lies, you know. If I told Brook about it he might not even believe it, and I guess I couldn’t blame him.”

Usopp was picking with something at the table, looking pleased and a little proud but not as proud as Sanji would have thought – and not triumphant, as he’d been back then when it happened. “Yeah, well…” He shrugged, then mumbled all but inaudibly, “That wasn’t really me, though.”

Sanji started, then frowned, wondering if he’d heard that correctly. “What??”

Usopp looked like he just realised what he said. He grinned nervously and put a hand behind his head, “I mean, I mean it wasn’t me, it was Sogeking! Yeah! That was all I meant! Anyway…” he fumbled as he picked up a small round object from the pile on the table, “…anyway, d’you know I’ve completely forgotten what the heck this is and why I’m carrying it? It’s not something you’re missing, is it?” 

Sanji ignored the question, not even bothering to glance at the obvious distraction. He hadn’t stopped staring at Usopp. “What’s that supposed to mean? It’s the same thing.”

Usopp’s smile began to look rather plastered on. “Don’t… don’t say that, Sanji,” he said in a strained voice, turning the small thing round and round. “Well, okay, I didn’t really think you missed it, just checking. Hey, it could even have been something that belonged to the stove, only I guess it’s too big for that, and you’d probably know if something this big wasn’t there, wouldn’t you? I mean, I mean it’s funny, this thing _looks_ like some kind of ammunition but it feels way too light for that…” he babbled. Then he glanced quickly at Sanji. “Will you stop looking at me like that? It’s giving me the creeps.”

“Fine,” said Sanji quietly. He turned back to the sink quite slowly, and continued with slow, soft, deliberate movements as he put the cigarette out, finished up the last of the washing, put everything in order and lit another cigarette. Then he turned around again and leaned back against the counter, arms crossed over his chest.

“All right,” he began, “I don’t know what the hell you think you’re on about with this, but in any case it’s a bloody lie. That was you all right, and if you _hadn’t_ been there on the roof right then we’d have lost her. Forever. No point in denying that.”

Usopp shook his head, looking like he wanted to be elsewhere but couldn’t find the cue to leave. “No… no, it’s not. It _wasn’t_ me.” He paused, picking at the small piles on his table nervously, then went on in a small voice, “It can’t have been, because – it wasn’t me. Because you don’t – because you don’t really need me, and… never mind.”

Sanji inhaled deeply and blew out a couple of smoke rings, before he replied with studied calm, “What? Could you go on with that last part? Why couldn’t it have been you?”

Usopp was looking down at the table now, the pretence of sorting through his things abandoned. “Because…” he mumbled. “…because you’re not – No.” He shook his head. “No, no, no. Forget it.” He slumped, hiding his face in his hands.

Sanji looked at him sharply. “Come on!” he exhorted. “You can’t stop there! You need to talk about this! It’s okay, I promise I’ll listen!” Usopp just kept shaking his head. “Usopp,” Sanji tried again, talking slower and with more emphasis. “Come on. You know it.”

Usopp drew in a long, shuddering breath, then suddenly burst out, “Goddammit, Sanji, stop it! Stop it! Don’t be a jerk! I’m trying not to talk about this kinda stuff! I’m trying not to _think_ about it!” He drew himself upright and turned his head to glare angrily at Sanji. “I’m really _trying_!”

Oh shit. This was not going well. But it was too late to back out, wasn’t it? Only way was to charge forward. Sanji looked away for a moment or two, getting control over his face and voice before he spoke again. “Okay,” he said gruffly. “Well, maybe that’s good, most of the time. But y’know, maybe sometimes you do need to talk about that kind of shit even so.” He took a chair and sat down on it, but he didn’t pull closer to the table, not crowding his crewmate. “I won’t tell any of the others, promise,” he added. “It’ll be okay no matter what you say.”

Usopp stared at him, looking like he might be wavering. “Um. Er… well, then…” Then he abruptly shook his head, “No!” he burst out. “You’re just doing the same thing you’re always doing, Sanji!”

Sanji puffed at his cigarette and gave him a wary look. “Huh?”

“You always worry about me, trying to make sure I’m okay without hurting my pride too much! It’s always like that, it’s never the other way around! Because god forbid someone as tough and cool and, and collected and suave as five-star chef Black Leg Sanji could ever feel down and broken-hearted and need to be saved or just talk to someone!” Usopp drew for breath, then went on in a slightly calmer tone, “And maybe that’s just how it has to be. I can’t be you and you can’t be me. But… but that doesn’t mean I have to like it, goddammit!”

A long silence followed.

That, he would realise later, could have been Sanji’s cue to stop, his excuse. It would have been stiff and awkward, but he could have shrugged tightly with wounded pride and grumbled, “Well then, if that’s the way you feel about it…” And then he’d have looked away with a scowl, and Usopp could have left. 

They’d have been on edge around each other for a while after that, but that would have passed, at least if they both made their best to pretend so. And they probably would have, too. 

If Sanji had made that choice.

Instead, he said in a rather cold tone, “Oh, so I’m the bad guy now, am I?” trying to keep the shock and anger he felt out of his face and his voice.

“Yes!” snapped Usopp. There was a pause, then he muttered, “No. You’re being nice again. But you’re kinda being a jerk about it.”

Sanji lit a cigarette, his anger receding again. “There’s no way we could have made it without you, you know,” he said, voice held low, fingers hardly trembling at all. 

“That’s not true,” mumbled Usopp hoarsely.

Sanji fixed him again with an intent look. “Why are you saying bullshit like that now?”

Usopp closed his eyes, swallowed and whispered, “It’s not. If it were, you wouldn’t have… you wouldn’t all have been prepared to leave without me, okay?” He swallowed again, then opened his eyes to look down at the table blankly. “And you were. ‘Cause you don’t really need me. It would have – it would have been fine if I hadn’t apologised. For you. You’d have been fine.”

Sanji stared at him. “…Is _that_ what you think?”

”It’s true,” said Usopp quickly. “And, and… I thought…” Trembling now, he drew another deep and shuddering breath. “Well, it doesn’t really matter,” he said in a shaky voice. “O-only, I guess I kinda thought for a while you _did_. Need me. ‘Cause I was of _some_ help over there. And you’re not – you’re not complete jerks. So. So that wasn’t me.” His voice rose, becoming more strained. “It was Sogeking who was helpful. Not me. Okay?” he ended, in a tone that was almost wild. 

Then his chair scraped the floor as he quickly moved it around, turning his back towards Sanji. Shoulders heaving, he took long, deep breaths.

Sanji sat frozen to the spot, still staring. For what felt like a very long moment, the two of them just remained that way, hardly moving at all.

 

*

 

Finally, Sanji swallowed. “So that’s it,” he mumbled, still incredulous. “You think we’re jerks. You _really_ think we’re jerks.”

“No, no…” Usopp shook his head at this, still sitting turned away from Sanji. He wasn’t speaking very loudly.

“Yes, you do,” said Sanji slowly. “But you don’t want to think like that, and you still want to be with us.” He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply from his cigarette, then opened his eyes again. “So instead, you deny what really happened and make yourself look weaker than you are.” His voice felt off to his ears, not quite part of himself.

Usopp just kept shaking his head and making small sounds of denial.

Sanji stubbed out his cigarette, then cleared his throat. “I don’t like knowing we escaped from that ghost princess just because you go around thinking like this,” he said. “And it’s not true. We do need you.”

“No. Not really.” Usopp sounded calmer now. He shifted position, turning back towards Sanji again, but kept his gaze on the wall in front of him. Then he crossed his arms over his chest and spoke again, quietly, “I know you were all happy when I came back. That was nice. But you would have been fine without me. I’m just… ornamentation.”

“Like hell you are.” Sanji didn’t move an inch, just kept staring at him fixedly.

“Not always. Not always, I know, but…” He rubbed his forehead with his knuckles wearily. “Sanji, you don’t understand, you’re so strong you _can’t_ understand. But it’s better for me to know these things instead of going around assuming… it’s just better. It kinda… it kinda hurts too much when you assume things and then find out they’re not true, okay?” 

“Oh.”

Sanji stared at the floor, feeling sick.

For a moment or two he wondered what might happen, if he were to stroll over to Zoro and, after kicking him awake, remark, “Hey, looks like our Longnose is slowly losing his marbles on account of us.” 

One thing he knew for sure, Zoro wouldn’t show any regret about the demanding-an-apology thing. He’d still be certain he’d done the right thing, and that would be that. Probably he’d give Sanji a boy-are- _you_ -stupid look, then tell him that Usopp was way stronger than that. Or he might wonder – and rightly so – why the hell Sanji wasn’t dealing with it himself instead of coming whining to him about it. 

Worse, Zoro might even mutter, “Fine, I’ll deal with it,” and lumber off with some half-baked plan that would eventually result in him getting hacked up into ground beef again. Because that was how the big idiot _did_ things, wasn’t it? Never mind that there wasn’t any physical enemy present – somehow he’d just manage to find a way, even so. Shitty moron.

Sanji clenched his fist, drew in a breath and said, slowly, “Listen. It’s not about being needed or not, it’s not about strength or skills…” He looked up, trying and failing to catch his crewmate’s eyes. “It would have been the same for any one of us, don’t you see?” Usopp shook his head mutely at this, but Sanji soldiered on. “Well, it _would_ ,” he insisted. “It wasn’t about need, it was about trusting, you know? We all need to trust each other with our lives, and then we need to know nobody’s going to leave on a whim again…”

“I get that.” Usopp’s voice was low and toneless, looking down at the floor. “I know. You don’t have to say it.”

Sanji looked at him helplessly. “You don’t look like you get it. You don’t look like you believe me.”

Usopp muttered, “It’s not that I don’t understand… I know I was wrong, and I… said some bad stuff back then… and it was dumb of me to just try to pretend nothing happened… But I still don’t think you’d have done it that way if you really needed me here. You’d have, I dunno, sent me some hints or something.” He shrugged miserably, then mumbled something inaudible.

Sanji leaned forward, then found he was still too far away, so he moved the chair closer until his head was just a couple of decimeters away from Usopp’s. “What was that?” he whispered, not letting up.

“And it wasn’t a whim,” muttered Usopp, only slightly more audibly. “And, and, okay, fine, I get it, but then you shouldn’t…” He swallowed and went on much faster, “…Then you shouldn’t say it was me there then and not Sogeking. Because it doesn’t count, what happened over there; it didn’t make me more trustworthy, so it just makes more sense it wasn’t me.” 

He fingered the mysterious round object that wasn’t ammunition from before, turning it over and over. “So I didn’t join forces with you there on the sea train and later,” he continued. “It wasn’t me. It was just Sogeking, and he wasn’t expecting or hoping to get anything from it, like – like being welcomed back or something, because he was never part of the crew in the first place.”

Sanji took deep breaths, slowly sank back into his chair, inhaling and exhaling at a measured pace. “I see,” he said slowly. “He’s just a hero, huh? And he didn’t owe any debt to Robin-honey either, so it wasn’t like he was there because of that.”

Usopp made another awkward shrug, then mumbled, “I used to check you guys out now and then, you know. Sev- several times a day. I was hoping for a hint, for some kind of sign… but you all seemed so damn happy I lost my nerve every time.”

Sanji frowned, raising his eyebrow as he puffed on his cigarette. He couldn’t remember being particularly happy during that time. Sure, there’d been moments of excitement, yes, especially when he’d been shopping for supplies in the town’s markets, knowing they’d soon have a great new ship to put them on. Also a lot of relief due to everyone being safe for the time being. But he remembered a lot of anxiety, too, in part because of Usopp and in part because any moment the Marines might turn up before the new ship was ready. 

And he certainly remembered how Luffy had stayed inside their temporary building for days, refusing to budge just so someone would always be there if Usopp were to come by. Would it do any good to mention that now? Maybe not. He suspected it would sound too much like an accusation. And that was something the negative ghosts had been very good at, he recalled, making you accuse yourself…

“You must be a pretty bad spy, then,” was all he muttered.

There was another long, tense silence.

“Anyway, that’s bullshit, what you said,” he went on gruffly. “You’re not ornamentation. You’re our sniper, and our fake captain, and we definitely need you. Hell, you **know** that, shit-for-brains!” he burst out, some desperation mixed in with the anger. “I shouldn’t have to tell you! Yeah, I don’t like the negative ghosts thing but it’s still a fact that without you there, we’d all had been done for back at Thriller Bark. And Oz would have squeezed me to death if you hadn’t shot one of your whaddyacall’em, “Big Balls of Fire Stars” or something…”

“Firebird Stars,” mumbled Usopp. 

“Right! And – and back when we were all surrounded at Enies Lobby, you were the one who first heard Merry, too! You were the first to realise we had to jump into the sea to escape. If you hadn’t been there we wouldn’t have got it until it had been too late, they’d have killed Luffy there on the spot, and probably all of us too except for Robin-honey…” He paused, out of breath, then continued only slightly calmer, “And she’d have been tortured horribly while they used her knowledge and then killed in the end, too – but you _know_ that, I don’t have to tell you! That creepy shit bastard CP9 boss just about told us so outright.” 

“Maybe,” whispered Usopp. “Maybe so. But Merry’s gone now. That won’t happen again.” There was a distant look on his face now, as if he was hardly there at all. As if nothing Sanji could say could possibly make any difference. 

Sanji put his thumbs in his pockets and turned around, walked back to the stove and gave it one good swift kick. He nodded to himself as he heard a clicking sound and a low hiss from it, then poured cooking oil into the pan. There. _Now_ it would work, probably. 

Standing by the cooking pan, he snarled to himself, groused inaudibly, stubbed out his old cigarette and lit up a new one. Then, he turned around abruptly, unable to keep it in any more.

“So you say we don’t need you, and then I point out that without you we’d be _dead_ – that’s not enough for you?!” he erupted, then walked back to the table and leaned forward, face only inches from Usopp’s. “How can you get more needed than that, for fuck’s sake? What the hell do you want me to tell you?” 

“I don’t want you to tell me _anything_!” Usopp shouted back. His voice cracked, going shrill but also hoarse. “You’re the one who keeps asking stupid questions! I just want you to leave me alone, dammit!” 

“Well, at least you’re fucking looking at me now!” yelled Sanji, then stopped as he saw Usopp freeze, staring off in one direction, towards the door. “Oh, what the hell now?” muttered Sanji, turning his head as well.

“Heeeey?” Luffy was standing in the door with a puzzled frown, looking from one to the other. “There’s no supper? …Hey, what’s wrong with you guys? Why are you shouting like that?” He shoved his hands in his pockets. 

Luffy didn’t show concern and worry like most people did, Sanji knew. When he wasn’t simply angry at the one he considered responsible for someone’s distress, he tended to look just like this, quiet and serious with eyes wider and darker than normal, as if trying to take everything in. 

Usopp glared bitterly at Sanji, who was actually taken aback by the fierceness of it, but quickly rallied with defensive anger.

“Because _this_ idiot keeps saying stupid things!” he shouted, pointing at Usopp with his hand trembling from the emotions. Part of him knew he was being immature, and maybe he was even breaking his promise from earlier not to say anything to the others. But he was mad, dammit!

Usopp pointed back at Sanji. “Because _this_ jerk keeps bothering me with stupid questions!” he shouted just as loudly. 

Then he stormed out of there, giving Luffy a wide berth as he passed him and slammed the door shut behind him. There were the sounds of quickly descending footsteps down the stairs to the lawn deck.

 


	2. Part Two

Luffy hadn’t called out to Usopp or moved to stop him from leaving, and he didn’t run after him either. He only stood where he was, looking at the closed galley door for a few long seconds, hands still in pockets. Then he turned his head and looked at Sanji. His expression gave little away. But his attention was clearly fully on his cook now. 

“Shit,” mumbled Sanji, turning his head as he walked back to the cooking area. “It’s all right, I’ll sort it out, I’ll go talk to him,” he said in a louder voice, not that he had any clue of what to say. He was uncomfortably aware there was a trembling undertone in his voice. 

“But he said you just ask stupid questions,” stated Luffy, as he put his hands deep into his pockets and craned his neck to follow Sanji’s movements.

Sanji just grumbled something inarticulate and let himself continue making supper, his hands pretty much on autopilot. Normally this task would be harder by Luffy being in the same room – not that Sanji couldn’t kick him away from the cooking area without losing a beat – but right now Luffy made no move to nick any of the food.

“And anyway… he’s the one saying stupid shit!” Sanji answered over his shoulder while cutting up the pre-boiled potatoes into smaller bits for frying. “But… Maybe you’re right,” he admitted. “I should let him go cool off first.”

“Okay,” said Luffy, nodding. He put his arms behind his head and slid closer to Sanji, his eyes still clear and wide and nothing like carefree. “Why were you guys saying stupid stuff to each other, anyway?” he asked. His tone indicated that Luffy thought this was rather dumb, if it would only leave everyone upset. A reasonable view on the face of it. 

Sanji started to stir the onion soup, the main side dish this supper. “It just happened,” he said bleakly. “I started it, I guess… Can’t tell you too much about it, though… kinda promised him I wouldn’t, see? At the start. But…” He thought for a few moments, rubbing his forehead. “I guess I was trying to make him less negative. Only, I…” he swallowed, then went on in a thicker, rougher tone, “…seems I went about it in the wrong way. Somehow.”

“Huh?” Luffy sounded surprised. Sanji glanced at him: he’d jumped up on top of the counter opposite, crossing his legs under him. “But that doesn’t even make any sense,” Luffy went on, frowning. “Usopp’s not negative!”

“Hmph. Says you.” Sanji tilted the smaller frying-pan to toss the carrots, broccoli and paprika in with the potatoes. He took a deep draw on his cigarette, then blew out smoke heavily. “Not that I don’t really wish you were right about that,” he muttered, then fixed his captain with a considering look. “Luffy… do you even know what that means? The word?”

”Well, sure!” said Luffy, giving Sanji a very puzzled look. “Being negative means it’s someone who always says no to stuff and never wants to do anything and doesn’t like anything or know how to have fun. Right?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Luffy crossed his arms as well. “Well, Usopp’s not like that at all!” he pointed out, frowning even more now. “He’s more like the _opposite_ of that.”

Sanji peppered the onion soup a little more, then took out a new cutting-board and started to slice up the bacon. “Well, he’s the one who said he was,” he pointed out. “Back on Thriller Bark when he turned out to be immune to those shitty ghosts. I know you weren’t there, but I thought you’d have heard that from him later.” 

Luffy blinked. “Uh… I _think_ he said something about fighting that princess-y girl who was with Moria and who liked weird stuffed animal zombies ‘n’ stuff?” Sanji nodded, and Luffy continued, lighting up as he spoke, “He said she had exploding ghosts and could fly and walk through air, and summon vampires and werewolves and everything! It must have been a great fight!” By now, he was grinning widely.

“Uh… yeah,” said Sanji. “I’m not sure about all of those things, though I wasn’t there for their fight itself, I was busy saving Nami-baby from that shitty invisible peeping-tom creep who wanted to marry her. But one thing’s for sure… that Perona lady could summon negative ghosts. You remember them at least, right? I mean, they got you a couple of times.”

Luffy’s smile dropped and he looked as if he was thinking intensely, calling up the still-quite-recent past. “Uh… um… oh, right!” After the look of recognition had passed, he scowled at the memory. “Those stupid things!” he burst out. “First you think they’re cool ghosts all swooping around like that” – he made wide swooping gestures with his arms – “and then it turns out all they ever do is make people feel reeeeally bad. I’d NEVER let _them_ join my crew! No way!” Then he looked over at Sanji, brightening again. “But they got you, too! Haha, you looked so funny!”

“Eh. Same to you, idiot,” said Sanji. “Move, Luffy, I need to open this cupboard.”

Luffy bent away, then sat back upright as Sanji got what he wanted and closed the cupboard door again. “But those things aren’t like Usopp, either,” he remarked calmly, finally stretching an arm to pinch some of the slices of bacon. Sanji had been prepared for that and swatted Luffy’s hand away with a spatula. 

“Ow! I mean,” Luffy went on, “Usopp doesn’t make me feel bad and miserable and like I don’t want to fight or do _anything_ any more. He’s the other way around from that, too. ‘Cause he’s fun to be with and he makes you laugh and you know it’s much better when he’s around. So he’s _not_ negative.” There was a definitive tone to his voice: clearly, Luffy had decided this was the only thing that made sense.

And it wasn’t like he didn’t have a point. “Yeah. I know. I… I’m honestly not sure how it works, either, but…” _Maybe_ I’m _the negative ghost here,_ he thought darkly, but managed to keep from muttering. He sure seemed to have had that effect on Usopp, anyway.

Luffy shifted position, bringing his knees up and leaning his elbows on them. “Sometimes I’m a bit sad for him,” he said simply, “but that’s still not the same thing as feeling negative- ghost-bad. And he’s strong enough, anyway.” Then he smiled again, patting Sanji on his shoulder just a little too enthusiastically. “So you shouldn’t worry either, Sanji! It’ll be all right!”

Sanji blinked at him, then growled, “Yeah, whatever, now get out of my kitchen so I can cook in peace!” But his kick as Luffy snagged more bacon slices and some garlic-bread before retreating was just a mite too slow on purpose. 

He did feel slightly better, he had to admit. Although he wasn’t sure Luffy hadn’t said that last bit to reassure himself as well as Sanji. Luffy could sometimes be unnervingly difficult to read.

He stirred the onion soup slowly, maybe a few more times than it needed, chewing his cigarette in silence.

 

*

Sanji couldn’t say he was very surprised when Usopp didn’t show up for supper, the last of the five daily meals normally served on this ship. It was rare, but it had happened before: supper, along with snack-times in the afternoon, was a skippable meal which Sanji was slightly tolerant about. It was breakfast, lunch and dinner that always had to be attended unless you were actually bedridden. He usually tried to save leftovers for the missing ones, though. 

“Yeah, I knocked on the workshop’s door, but he said he was right in the middle of working on something and didn’t wanna stop,” said Franky in between mouthfuls. His tone was casual, but a moment later he gave Sanji a searching look with a certain amount of reproach in it.

That was a bit much to take from Franky of all people – but Sanji only looked away and muttered something mechanically grumpy. He felt Luffy’s eyes on him but didn’t look up.

“Yeah, fine, I’ll take it to the shitty idiot later,” he mumbled, his hands already busy putting aside an extra portion away in a sealed box. 

“That’s great!” said Luffy sunnily, then went back to eating. Sanji winced from the inherent trust of the statement, reminding him again of Luffy’s attitude before. He rather doubted Usopp would even open for him, right now, if he were to go down there and knock. 

*

After supper he declined Nami’s and Chopper’s offers of help with doing the washing-up - very politely when it came to Nami-baby, of course. But he had a distinct feeling that both of them wanted an excuse to ask him what was going on. Chopper looked cautiously worried, and Nami a bit too obviously casual. That wouldn’t lead anywhere useful, he was pretty sure, not after he’d promised not to blab.

Besides, if he did it all himself it would take longer to finish, and he was in no hurry to lose the excuse to linger.

So he finished the washing up, put everything away, made a quick inventory of the food, planned out tomorrow’s menu and took out the meat for tomorrow’s breakfast to thaw; and did everything else he could think of that needed doing until he finally got too nervous and preoccupied to keep it up anymore. 

He paced back and forth in the galley, trying to think. Maybe he should step out and take some fresh air, but he felt reluctant to do so and wasn’t quite sure why. It might be because his crewmates might distract him... or, he half feared, accuse him. In a twisted kind of way, maybe it was only fair he stayed put, given that Usopp probably wasn’t budging much from the workshop right now, either. 

Finally he sank down in a chair, long legs stretched out under the table while he blew up smoke towards the ceiling. As he’d already done repeatedly, he went through the conversation in his head, trying to figure out what he should have said at any one point to make things better. If he couldn’t figure out what went wrong, how was he supposed to fix it?

 _“It’s always like that, it’s never the other way around!”_ echoed in his head, among other words. 

Was that really true? Sanji frowned, dropping the ashes to the floor with a sour look. Even if, even if there were something to that line of thinking – that wasn’t really something he could apply right _now_ , was it? If he started going on about his own shitty personal baggage – leaving aside the recent shit with the mosshead, obviously – well, as far as he could see that would only increase the general level of negativity. And it’d make him feel dumb, too. So it likely wouldn’t help. 

Would it? 

 

*

It was already dark outside when he heard sneaky footsteps outside the door, like those of heavy shoes trying to walk very quietly. Sanji tensed, didn’t move his head but kept one eye on the door from where he was. 

But the door didn’t open. Instead, a note appeared as it was shoved under it with a faint rustle, after which footsteps retreated hurriedly, much noisier than they’d approached. Sanji walked over and bent down to pick the note up.

It was a rough sketch of a fish, drawn in haste apparently, though with telltale good anatomical proportions and vivid pencil lines. Sanji folded it in half and put it in his pocket, then stepped out of the galley and went down the steps to the lower deck.

Sunny’s combined room of fishtank/aquarium plus bar – unique among ships as far as Sanji knew - was directly under the galley. Sanji rather enjoyed the clever arrangement with a dumb-waiter between the two, with which he could send tasty snacks to those hanging out in the aquarium, especially when it was Nami and Robin, and they could send the empty plates and glasses right back the same way. 

He couldn’t see anyone when he stepped inside. Just to be sure, he stepped into the middle of the room, around the pillar which contained that very dumb-waiter. Nope, no-one around. Maybe he’d misinterpreted the fish drawing? But Sanji couldn’t think of what else it could have meant, unless it was a request for tomorrow’s breakfast. He decided to stay here for a few minutes, then turned to scrutinise the aquarium.

They were getting low on big fishes again, he noted. Perhaps it was finally time to fry that fine, metre-long specimen of giant butterfly fish which was skulking in the back and chewing on some seaweed. Sanji had caught it himself last week while still on Thriller Bark, but had held off on cooking it so far due to its being so pretty. With its luminous hues of red and gold and just a touch of violet, it brightened up the aquarium more than any other fish; but cooking trumped aesthetics any day. Besides, he wanted to try it with the last of the goat-cheese he’d bought in Water 7. 

He heard the door open, quite slowly, but waited till he’d heard it close again before turning around. Usopp was standing by the door with his hands in his pockets, looking fairly calm at first glance.

“Uh...” Sanji started, then fell silent for several seconds before trying again. “Ah– hey, listen, um... I...”

Usopp just waved at him as if wanting him to be quiet as he stepped into the room, keeping fairly close to the wall. 

Sanji wasn’t deterred, although he did back several steps away in the other direction, without thinking about it. “I’m just really sorry, okay?” he blurted out. “I mean, that was– I shouldn’t have pushed you –”

“…Wait, could you just not say anything yet?” said Usopp, cutting him off in an urgent but low tone of voice. “‘Cause there’s something I need to say first, and it’s kinda hard to get it out right, if you’re gonna distract me.” Leaning against the wall, he buried his hands deep in his pockets.

“All right.” said Sanji quietly. He sat down on the long couch that ran along the wall under the fish tank, took out a new cigarette and lit it with an “I’m listening” look. 

Usopp had closed his eyes, and now took a deep breath, swallowed, and then went on, “O-okay. Listen.” He opened his eyes and looked over at Sanji with an intent, serious expression. “Look, first I want to say…you know, uh, when I said I didn’t want to talk about stuff before and, and I got mad at you for keeping at me?”

“Yeah,” muttered Sanji, voice feeling rather hollow as he fumbled with his matches.

“W-well…” Usopp continued, “I wasn’t _lying_ about that; I did - I mean I do feel that way, most of the time, but… part of me doesn’t. Part of me, well… it was kinda happy you asked, actually.” He paused, drawing deeply for breath again, making small circles on the floor with his right foot. 

“Mm?” Sanji put his head to one side, adjusting cigarette as he gave Usopp a questioning look.

Usopp sighed, took his hands out of his pocket to adjust his goggles, then left the spot by the wall to sit down at the far edge of the couch instead. He sat cautiously at the edge of the seat, back very straight. “Yeah… and that you didn’t stop asking, wouldn’t let go,” he continued. “Because, uh – that meant it was _okay_ for me to go on like I did, that it was okay to let that stuff out, even though I pretty much knew it would make you feel bad; and maybe I even – even wanted that, in a way.” 

He pressed his eyes shut. “Not the, the usual me,” he muttered, “not most of me, but… this, um... This other part of me? And, and the best thing was, it wouldn’t even be my fault, ‘cause you’re the one who asked!” 

Sanji let out a cloud of smoke, slowly. 

“Ookay…” he said tentatively, cautiously. “So…?”

“This is what I’m trying to – well… this is so hard to say, but…” Usopp opened his eyes again, looking at Sanji. “That’s the part of me that, that just keeps going on about things that don’t lead anywhere. Um. Negative thinking, I guess.” 

Sighing, he looked down at his hands, twiddling his thumbs. “It’s like some kind of sick dog gnawing at its own tail,” he went on. “Weird thing is, it _likes_ that, it likes being miserable because… because it’s the only thing it knows how to do, I guess? And sometimes it likes lashing out at other people too.

“See, the thing is… once that part of me really gets going, there’s nothing you can say that will make it stop. I mean it. _Nothing._ You think I haven’t already tried, like hundreds of times? It doesn’t matter how many arguments you have or how much sense they make or how sincere you are about it. Still won’t work. That part of me’s not gonna believe it, no matter what. 

“All you can do is to wait for it to go away. I guess not really away, but... sinking down out of sight, enough to make you forget about it.” He tapped his solar plexus, making a small circling motion, then shrugged. “It usually takes a while, once it’s gotten to that point. But eventually it does, and I’ll feel better and can be a lot more positive about things again.” 

“I see,” said Sanji, his voice rougher than intended. That wasn’t exactly what he’d hoped to hear. What he’d most have liked to hear would have been something on the lines of, ‘Y’know, Sanji, I thought it over and your arguments make excellent sense! I promise never to think or feel anything like that ever again!’. All the dark clouds gone for good, with clear blue skies ever after.

But that wasn’t very realistic, now, was it? Sanji allowed himself a brief, wry smile and took out another cigarette. The sounds of the sea and the crew were low outside, on this calm evening.

Usopp said, more suddenly than before, “I know that almost sounds like I’m… trying to duck out on responsibility, you know? Like, ‘that’s not the real me’. And that wouldn’t be true, it’s not like – not like it’s another person – but... it’s _more_ than just a mood... But – I just can’t explain it any better way.” He shrugged, very briefly.

“Okay,” said Sanji again, nodding. Usopp fell silent again, breathing out, hands trembling. But he did seem more relaxed now after having gotten all that out. He sat back on the couch, more comfortably than before.

Sanji watched him for a few more seconds, then said, “You know... I’ve been thinking about something. Not related to this shit.”

“Hm?” Usopp looked over at him. He looked slightly wary, but more curious. 

“Mmhm.” Sanji sank further back into his seat, slouching, He blew out a smoke ring slowly. “Uh,” he started eloquently. “Don’t know if you heard about this before, if Nami or Chopper ever told you... Remember, in the Tower of Justice, after we split up...?” 

He half feared Usopp would protest again that he hadn’t “really” been there, but fortunately Usopp only gave him a nod and a questioning look. 

“Right,” Sanji went on. “Well... I came across that CP9 woman first. You know. Name of Calipha.”

“Iceburg’s secretary? The sexual harassment lady?” Usopp pulled his legs up under him, then twisted off his shoes, sitting crosslegged. He looked over at Sanji, clearly puzzled now. 

“Right, “said Sanji, nodding. “With the fishnet stockings and the exquisite legs.” He blew out smoke slowly, no longer looking at Usopp.

“Don’t tell me you _fought_ her.” Usopp was frowning in disbelief.

“I didn’t,” said Sanji, shaking his head. “Oh, I tried to pretend I did – feinting and blocking and trying to get her key without having to actually kick her – too bad she’d hidden it really well..:” He paused at that, feeling his cheeks faintly pink, then shook his head to dispel an old alluring mental image. “But she saw right through me. She knew I wouldn’t kick her; and she had a Devil Fruit ability to boot, so...” More smoke rings. He dug his hands into his pockets, looking up towards the high ceiling. 

“Anyway,” he went on in a brisker tone, “to cut a shitty story short, she cleaned my clock because I couldn’t make myself hurt her. Nami had to fight her in my place.”

“Oh.” Usopp sounded rather cautious now. “Yeah... But... that’s because it went against your principles, right? It’s n-not like – not like you weren’t strong enough. It was about your whatchamacallit – your chivalry code. Right?” 

Sanji just shrugged at first. He said nothing for awhile, watching his cigarette burn down. Finally, he squeezed the last ember out between thumb and forefinger, tossed the stub away and got back to talking. 

“I’ve thought about this.” He was quiet, now. “I think… I don’t want to be a guy that abandons his principles, but… I _should_ have been able to, to hit her. Maybe. She was – was just a bit too good for me to be able to defeat her without hurting her, but – it might not even have hurt that much, I could have ended it fairly quickly if only…” He grimaced. “But it’s just not possible. If we ran into her tomorrow, or some other lady enemy just like her, it would be the same shitty deal. I feel like something would break in me if I ever do that – if I ever kicked a woman.”

“Huh.” Usopp turned around on his seat, still sitting crosslegged on the sofa but facing Sanji now. “You know, even when your shadow was Moria’s zombie it refused to kick a woman. And, and not just Nami but also a female warthog zombie – she had Captain Lola’s shadow. We were all pretty impressed by that.” 

“Oh? Didn’t know that.” Sanji shrugged in a small motion, his muscles tense. Then he cleared his throat, but paused and scratched his head before continuing. This next part was going to be hard to say.

“So. Anyway,” he went on, looking at the opposite wall. “It didn’t make me feel too great, at the time. I was even completely out of commission for a while there – she had these bubbles that made you stop moving – but then a bathtub burst down on me and rinsed them off, so that put me back in business.

“And then when I got into that big room where Zoro and the giraffe-dude were fighting, and Nami was crying and that fucking wolf-guy seemed ready to finish you off... well.” He shifted his seat, crossing his legs the other way around. “Of course I was fucking furious. And it’s not like I wouldn’t have had to fight him, anyway – he had one of those shitty keys, too. But I wasn’t _just_ angry.

“If I’m really honest” – he sighed a little, still not looking at Usopp, but quite aware of his unusually quiet presence off to his left, where Sanji couldn’t quite see him – “I was, well, relieved. Was even bloody happy. This was something I could do so I could feel useful again, see? Could redeem myself for the Calipha fiasco. I could save you, could stop him from getting to Nami, get his fucking key and the pleasure of kicking the shit out of that bastard.”

He stared out into the air, feeling tired, gray and more than a little disgusted with himself, sitting fairly hunched over with elbows resting on his knees. “What the hell does that say about me, huh? I was fucking _happy_ my crewmate was in deep shit so I could save him.” His lips twitched unhappily.

“Who the hell cares about that?” Usopp exclaimed. Sanji turned his head: the sniper was staring at him in angry disbelief. “You still saved me, right?” Usopp went on. “And you’re the one who told us – told me that you’d do what I couldn’t do, so that I could do what you couldn’t.” He pushed away a strand of hair in front of his eyes and straightened up as he glared at Sanji. “You made me realise what was going on and what we – what _I_ had to do to help save Robin – that saved me almost as much as your kick did!” He was pointing at Sanji now, finger shaking. Sanji blinked, straightening up just a bit and taking out another cigarette to calm himself. 

Usopp went on, somewhat more quietly, “I really – I’d like to do something like that one day, you know, saying just the right thing to help someone that much… So what if you were thinking something less than princely as well? That’s only human, Sanji!” His voice rose again. “It didn’t change what you did!”

“Fine, fine!” snapped Sanji, trying to suppress his relief. “Forget about it!” He waved his newly-lit cigarette in the air, then huffed, “But if it’s dumb for _me_ to think that, it’s much dumber for you to be negative! So there!”

“I can’t help it, okay?” Usopp snapped back. “Also, you made me forget what I was going to say before!” 

Sanji frowned, settling back. “Hm? What was that?”

Usopp turned back on the couch. He was looking down again, fingers makings invisible lines on the couch. “Um. Well... you know... even if it looked like I wasn’t really listening to what you said, before; and it couldn’t make the negative me shut up – that doesn’t mean I didn’t like hearing that stuff.” He paused, drew for breath, his cheeks pinkish. “It was, um, it was nice. So. Thank you.” 

Sanji snorted. “No need for thanks. It was just the truth,” he said shortly. “We’d be dead. You know it.”

Usopp shrugged awkwardly, then went on, "Also. Also, even if I can't make that part of me shut up, those times – well, that doesn't mean it's how I _really_ feel. You know. Deep down. And it used to be – I think it used to be worse, anyway. Back in the old days." He looked up, straight at Sanji.

"Mmhm?" Sanji raised an eyebrow. He guessed that ‘the old days’ meant ‘before Water 7’, but the statement surprised him.

"Yeah.” Usopp put his head to one side, as if listening to his thoughts. “Because. What I really feel, apart from all that darker stuff... it's that I’m where I really want to be, doing what I most want to do. And now I know there are other places I could have been at, other than just staying home the rest of my life. I could have gone off to Elbaf with the giants. I could have found some other crew coming to Water 7, too. M-maybe not any of the big ones, but a smaller gang... I think, once they saw me shoot, there'd be those who'd give me a chance. You know? Maybe." He scratched his nose.

“I should bloody well think so," said Sanji roughly. He was hit by two irrational reactions at the same time: anger at a hypothetical other pirate crew that wouldn’t see Usopp’s worth; and jealous resentment at another hypothetical crew that _would_. 

Usopp shifted his seat, sitting turned more towards Sanji again but not looking at him directly. In fact, he seemed to be gazing into the top corner of the aquarium, behind and above Sanji’s head. "But that's not what I want to do, anyway,” he said quietly. “I'd rather be with you guys. More than anything else. I mean, I thought so before, too, but... now I _know_. That’s different. And I have this really strong feeling – that this isn’t just where I want to be; it's where I _should_ be, too.” He paused momentarily, his gaze dropping again. “This is where I belong. And even the negative part can’t make me lose that feeling. It can’t.” Softly, he added, “It’s not stronger than rock.” 

Sanji swallowed. To his great annoyance, he suddenly found himself blinking rapidly for a few seconds. “O-okay,” he said hoarsely, then drew in too much smoke and started to cough. Damn it, this was uncool.

“So you shouldn't be worried, Sanji.” Usopp suddenly grinned broadly, teeth shining. “Really. S' alright." He scooted closer only to lean over and pat Sanji on the shoulder, then scooted back. 

"I wasn't worried about - I mean, I didn't think you'd" – he couldn't say _leave us again_ , the words choked in his throat - "anyway, I just, um.” Sanji cleared his throat. “I was just mad, that’s all, hearing all that bullshit from your mouth.” 

Usopp gave him a flatly sceptical look, then just shrugged. “If you say so,” he said. He straightened up and stretched his arms out over his head. “I take it back, by the way,” he said over his shoulder. “That stuff I said before, that you worry about me and all that,” he clarified to Sanji’s befuddled look. “Well, I thought it over and I realised that wasn’t all fair. ‘Cause it isn’t just me, is it? You worry about everyone. You just hide it well.”

“I don’t – that’s bullshit.” Sanji paused briefly, then cleared his throat and drawled, “Nah, that’s _you_ , Longnose. Not me.” Smiling now, he added, “Sheesh, don’t get us mixed up like that.”

“Uh-uh.” Usopp shook his head, sounding a lot easier by now – maybe even smug. But that dropped the next moment when he went on to add. “You’re even worried about Zoro, lately, aren’t you?” 

Sanji flinched at that completely unexpected remark, and was further unsettled to see Usopp’s studying look while he uncrossed his legs and put his feet back on the floor. "There's something you're not saying about Zoro, Sanji,” he said seriously. “Is it something to do with why he was hurt so badly, much worse than the rest of us?” 

Sanji shifted, then gave Usopp his best attempt at a flat look. “I don't know what the hell you're talking about, Longnose."

"You act weird with him lately, too,” said Usopp, not deterred by this response. “Like you're still worried about him. Uh... not saying that's wrong, of course; I’m all for him resting more like Chopper keeps telling him, instead of training even harder than usual... S'just weird coming from _you_ , that's all."

“It’s just in your imagination,” said Sanji shortly. “And if it _does_ look like I’m being different – and I don’t think it does, you’re just seeing things – but even if it does, that’s just because he might just be an even bigger blockhead than usual. That just pisses me off, seeing dumb shit like that.” 

He saw that his cigarette was almost burned out, and it had been the last one in his pocket. Good timing. “Uh, anyway,” he went on quickly as he stood up and stretched, “I need to get more cigarettes, and I could use some tea and a sandwich or two – and don’t tell me _you’re_ not hungry since you skipped supper, idiot.” He shot Usopp a brief warning glance at the last bit. “So... uh?” he finished lamely, nodding towards the ceiling. They were directly under the galley, after all.

Usopp had put his shoes back on, but he didn’t get up right away. He put his hands in his pockets and stretched his legs out, his head to the side as if the top of his shoes were terribly interesting. “That might be nice... I’m a _tiny_ bit hungry, I guess,” he conceded, right before a growling stomach proved his words to be an understatement. Sanji smirked. “Didn’t realise you can get a big appetite just by this kind of talking,” Usopp added.

“I know, it’s weird, but it’s true,” Sanji said, nodding and turning to walk out as Usopp finally bounced to his feet.

“It’s a bit boring, though,” said Usopp thoughtfully.

Sanji stopped in his tracks. “ _Boring?_ ”

“Yeeah...” Usopp looked away, avoiding Sanji’s glare. “If it’s still nice out, I thought... hey, it is!” he exclaimed after passing by his crewmate and stepping out onto deck. “I thought we could have some tea or coffee out on deck. I’ve got some new ammo made I want to try in the night-time – I think it’ll look like fireworks!” he babbled on as they walked, with Sanji trailing him and grunting something vague and non-committal. He bit down his first reply, which would have been on the lines of “like hell you will if the girls have gone to bed”. They might still be up, after all. Or it might turn out to be a very quiet kind of explosion.

 

 _Well_ , he thought, while firing up the stove and taking out Usopp’s leftover share and a pan to put them in; while putting a kettle on for tea and digging out his very best tin of bergamot-scented blend for once from the back of the cupboard, _there aren’t clear blue skies ever after, and if the ghost girl turned up this moment he’d still be immune to her – which would still be a boon to the rest of us, but that’s not the point – but if I keep grumbling about that right now, I guess I won’t get to see any fireworks._

He turned around to get down a loaf of bread from the cupboard opposite, then glanced towards the table. Usopp was busy fiddling with lanterns and getting a flask of petroleum oil for them, humming faintly. 

Sanji felt flooded by something that was half compassion and half pride, and too much tenderness he didn’t know what to do with. So he looked away and focused on making as good a sandwich as he could manage.

The moon was shining, almost but not quite full. So it was far from pitch-black when they came outdoors later with lanterns and a big tray, though still dark enough for the lanterns to be welcome. 

Walking down the steps, there was a moment when Usopp’s balance looked somewhat precarious, and Sanji reached out a hand to steady him. After a couple of seconds, he squeezed Usopp’s shoulder firmly, before letting go. 

It might not have been strictly necessary, so he wasn’t quite sure it might not be taken the wrong way. But at the foot of the steps, Usopp shifted his weight so he had one hand free, then reached out and squeezed back.


End file.
